`Boys' trying too hard in revival of Simon play

August 14, 2004|By Chris Jones, Tribune arts reporter.

Tony Mockus and Dale Benson, superb actors of the old school, are certifiable treasures of the Chicago theater. Despite both being well past the traditional retirement age of more prosaic professions, they continue to toil away at their theatrical craft with the passion and commitment of interns.

Even when doing a classic Neil Simon comedy, these formidable thespians share at least two common strengths on a stage. Both have an indomitable stage presence. And both are utterly unafraid to stare their own mortality in the face.

Despite its title and reputation as a trifle, "The Sunshine Boys," Simon's famously droll love letter to the crusty vaudevillians of old, fundamentally is about two old men fighting tooth and nail against their declining fame and health.

In Ray Frewen's revival at the Drury Lane Oakbrook, Mockus and Benson have that side of the show -- which is the hardest part -- down stone cold.

Intensely credible and empathetic, both sweat bullets trying to probe their characters' deepest insecurities and the depths of their mutual hatred, born in bitterness. Their work truly is formidable.

And if this were "King Lear" or Eugene O'Neill, it would be the whole ballgame. But this is not "Long Day's Journey Into Night," it's "The Sunshine Boys," a Simon comedy wherein the gags are layered with the care, craft and schematic regularity of a 70-year-old Italian chef assembling his ten-thousandth lasagna.

And for the audience to laugh -- and I'm talking chest-aching guffaws as opposed to the polite smiles and titters that were in evidence at the Drury Lane on Thursday night -- permission must be granted from the guys on the stage.

That permission can be signaled by a twinkle in the eye, a spring in the faltering step, a nod, a wink, or a fast-paced double take that shares the fun with the audience. In Frewen's overly earnest production, permission was not clearly granted. And thus the audience didn't feel free to laugh.

That's a pity, because as fans of the 1975 movie (which gave an octogenarian George Burns a belated Oscar) well know, this show has some corking shtick. Aside from all the one-liners, the play is chock-full o' bits of business that just keep on giving -- the door that won't open, the spitting, the finger in the chest, "Enter, "Come In," the list is endless.

If Mockus and Benson relaxed, had a little more fun, and sped up the sometime lugubrious pace of the show, more of those laugh-lines would hit their mark.

There is some funny stuff in place already. But there also are some off notes -- Gene Weygandt, a fine actor who plays the long-suffering nephew, Ben, offers an outlandish character when he really should be playing a straight man (and the audience's way into the play). That's necessary for the play's structure to work.

Frewen needs to ride herd on that -- as he does the second-act moment when the vaudeville skit goes haywire. On opening night, the show went haywire too, at that moment. And not in a good way.

But most of all, this star duo needs to lighten up. They are great actors. But they're also supposed to be "The Sunshine Boys," now and hopefully forever.